“Fred?” Annabel called from the other side of the door.
The sound of his name, spoken with a simple, questioning lilt, released the tension in his shoulders just enough for him to breathe.
It wasn't Carson.
The adrenaline rush subsided into a heavy, lingering beat in his chest. He took a slow, deliberate step toward the door.
His mind raced.
What did that soft inquiry mean? Was it relief? An urgent plea? Or just a simple check-in? He reached out, his hand hovering over the cold metal knob.
He turned the knob slowly, carefully, the mechanism clicking almost silently.
He pulled the door inward an inch, then two. The sliver of opening showed the pale morning light of the hallway, and then her.
Annabel stood there, still in the thick gray robe, its collar pulled high.
Her dark h
